Do I Remember The Bluebells? Comments

This poem about bluebells brings back such wonderful memories of holidays in the Lakes, my husband, the dogs and myself walking through a bluebell carpeted wood on the shores of Lake Windermere in spring time. Thank you RE Ballard for capturing these moments so beautifully in your poem.

A freshness and individuality in this piece, well done Roy!

Nothing short of mesmerizing. I am so easily turned away by a forced phrase or clumsy metaphor and yet here you write with natural ease and illustration, original but not trying to be clever. The mark of a true observer of life. Clouds white as choir boys, sycamores a covert wood. Excellent..............